“Do you go to school on a broomstick?” The boy with the mole on his forehead asked.
“No. I ride a dragon when I go to school.” Jessa was trying so hard to keep a straight face. Her grandmother and father insisted she entertained the guests today, and entertainment was her specialty.
“Where do you park them?”
“On the roof.”
“What if they burn your hair? You have pretty hair.”
Aww. “I grow more hair.” She looked sideways at the horrified man and wife, listening to the little conversation going on between the two teenagers. Her dad wasn’t here to tell her off, but her grandmother was sitting with a sour-lemon expression on her face, speechless.
The boy seemed naïve enough to believe anything she told him, though. That was entertaining. He inched forward, awed by what she was telling him. “What’s your school called again?”
“Winchester’s Wizarding School for Wacks and World Wonderers.”
“That’s an odd title.”
“I like my school.” Jessa said, foolishly defensive of her made-up school.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Her dad bellowed with a quietues spell, walking in to the hall. She grinned at him, he didn’t return the amusement, “She doesn't go to school.”